Mind Trap
by darkntwisted
Summary: Reid takes off on his own when the BAU didn't believe that there was a case in Chicago, Illinois. While investigating on his own he falls into a world unlike any he'd ever imagined. Super heroes were real? For Hawkeye, this was supposed to be an easy assignment. Mopping up one more HYDRA agent. Then things went terribly wrong.


Mind Trap

Disclaimers: I do not own 'Criminal Minds', Spencer Reid, 'The Avengers', Clint Barton or any of the other characters I will use. They belong to the corporations and people who created them. I've simply borrowed them for a while. Once I'm done playing with them I'll return them to their cupboards, honest. Maybe a little worse for wear.

This story has not been nor will be beta'd. I write as I update. I try to catch as many mistakes as I can but if you notice something particularly glaring, please let me know. I will fix that.

_A/N: Okay. This is going to be a collaborative effort between myself and myownmind. Myownmind will be writing from Spencer Reid's perspective. I will be working from Clint Barton's perspective. Unfortunately, I don't think either of them will be cannon. I'm not very good at doing my research into characters' pasts. I think it just kind of screws me up. Sorry. If you read both stories there will be some echoing going on but hopefully not enough to be irritating. _

_Please review. I work faster the more reviews I get simply because they keep me invested in the story. That was a very subtle hint don't you think? LOL_

_Darkntwisted_

Chapter One

"What the hell?"

It was supposed to be an easy job. That's what Fury had told him. SHIELD may no long exist but there were still members of HYDRA to deal with. This was something that the assassin understood. This was something Clint Barton, AKA Hawkeye, was very good at.

Still, he should have known. Nothing Fury ever sent him on had been quite as simple as the former SHIELD director had ever made it out to be. Why would things change now?

In position on the roof of a warehouse 100 meters from his target's position, Clint had his bow string pulled back to his cheek, prepared to take the shot until something else caught his eye in the gloom.

"Who the hell was that?" the brown haired archer muttered to himself. He was alone on the roof. SHIELD no longer existed so there were no other agents to back him up. Fury had Natasha on another mission and Rogers was off searching for his friend, the Winter Soldier. Clint was used to working solo. That part of this mission didn't bother him at all. The fact that he had been dispatched by Fury to deal with a Hydra serial killer also didn't bother him. The assassin had too many deaths on his hands one more wasn't going to make a difference. What bothered him was that he'd just seen a second figure moving around the target's building.

The Hydra agent was known to frequent the warehouse due north of the one Clint was on. He'd waited all day for the agent to appear. Now it was dark, very dark. The buildings around them were mostly unlit because of the time of day. The street lights didn't quite reach this far off the roads. All in all, it was a pretty crappy situation for an assassin.

As Hawkeye watched from his perch, the dark shape that had moved in the gloom became slightly more apparent. There wasn't much detail he could pick out but he could have sworn he saw large white letters written on the shape's back and that they spelled 'FBI'. Briefly silhouetted in a small pool of light, Clint got a better look at the shape. The FBI agent was tall, slim, seemed young and had unruly brown hair. Even though he was definitely not Clint's target, the young man moved stealthily around the perimeter of the building, heading towards the back. Since it was night, the young man would be virtually blind with the complete lack of light between the warehouses and the shipping containers that lined the edge of the parking lot. There was no way, without a flash light that he could see Clint's target skulking several yards ahead of him. The kid was using a small, powerful torch but the target had all ready seen the agent and was taking steps to remain hidden. Unfortunately, the place he chose to lay in wait blocked Clint's shot.

Releasing the tension on his bow string, Clint cursed under his breath. The kid was following standard FBI protocol for clearing the area, his torch and gun out but knowing his target, it wasn't going to help him. Still cursing, Clint slung his bow across his should and soundlessly dropped to the first landing on the fire escape below him. There wasn't enough time to stop the kid from being caught but he had to try.

Two minutes later, Barton was on the ground, lightly padding towards the shipping containers that separated the two buildings. Until now it hadn't been a problem, but now Clint either had to climb over them or sprint the 100 meters to either end, they were so tightly packed together. He could hear the kid's feet crunching lightly on the gravel behind the containers. Just as the assassin was going to shout a warning, he heard a grunt. Desperately, Clint scaled the middle container, ran along it's top and stopped at the other end to look down.

"Hello," a too calm voice stated from inside the pitch blackness Clint found on the other side. The kid's torch was laying on the ground to Clint's left, its beam of light pointed back the way the FBI agent had just walked, not helping at all.

"I thought I saw you up there Agent Barton," the voice continued. Just below the man's voice, Clint could make out ragged, uneven breathing. He had the kid.

"Come down and join us agent," the voice said still sounding very conversational. "Or I'll kill the FBI agent right here."

Options ran furiously through Hawkeye's mind. None of them were good. Somewhere below and to the right, Clint heard the kid grunt.

"Oh, that's right. You can't see what's going on down here in the darkness. I have a knife pressed against the FBI agent's throat. I'll slice through his jugular and carotid artery before you can rescue him. So, please, join us."

Frustrated, not coming up with a strategy to keep the kid alive, Clint took a deep breath, ran his left hand over his face and jumped down. The darkness below was complete. His target had planned well. Even with his excellent vision, Clint was completely blind. He heard the two shifting around slightly to his right as he fell but it was all he heard. Then his feet made contact with the ground. As Clint did, his right foot hit something round, causing it to roll away from the rest of his body.

Pain exploded through Hawkeye's ankle, nearly taking his breath away. All the archer allowed to escape his lips was a small grunt. Quickly he recovered; trying to stand despite the burning hot poker someone was pushing into his ankle.

"Not quite as graceful as they say you are," the voice taunted. Somehow the target could see in the dark without the tell tale light of IR goggles. That was piece of information was missing from Fury's briefing on the Hydra agent. Sometimes Clint missed the vast intelligence network of SHIELD despite the organization's vast flaws.

"Still, I will find you a challenge none the less," the voice continued. From the information Fury had given Clint he knew that the person speaking was nearly six inches taller than him. He had jet black hair with pale blue eyes. His build was similar to the FBI agent, tall and lanky. Hidden within that slight frame, however, was a great deal of strength. The file had the Hydra agent, who was known as The Reaper, listed as responsible for over 200 deaths. The thing that connected all the kills was that the victims showed no sign of violence, were mostly in perfect health with no history of cardiac disease and yet their hearts stopped. There was no medical explanation for any of the deaths. How this agent killed as still unknown. The man's resemblance to Loki was not lost on Clint either. A chill passed down his spine.

"Come along now, Agent Barton," the Reaper said. In the darkness Clint felt a hand come to rest on his right shoulder. Despite any resistance Clint mustered, he felt his body being drawn inextricably along with the images of his time being Loki's robot flashing through Clint's mind. Panic tried to overwhelm him. Clint barely managed to fight it down in the black void they were still in. Clint shuffled forward, his right ankle sending shock waves of pain through his leg with every step and kept trying to roll over. To Clint's right, he heard the FBI agent walking beside him. The kid was breathing heavily, clearly fighting panic as well, and yet he maintained a steady pace. Behind them, Clint could feel the Reaper less than a foot away.

"The three of us are going to get to know each other very well," the Reaper purred. Clint felt the man's moist breath pass by his ear and then the right side of his face. A chill began somewhere in the archer's soul and expanded.

The Reaper probably had hold of the kid's left shoulder just as he had Clint's right one. This was probably going to be Clint's last chance. Twisting abruptly, he sent a fist in the direction of the Reaper's head while he pushed the kid out of the line of fire. Just as his fist should have made contact with the Reaper's jaw, a car drove by some distance away, its headlights throwing crazy beams of light and shadow over the scene.

Effortlessly, the Reaper caught hold of Clint's fist with his hand, stopping the blow. A subtle movement of the man's leg and Clint was sinking to the ground. As he struck out with his right fights, aiming for a pressure point but the Reaper caught that one too. The grip on Clint's hands increased. Using every ounce of strength Clint had left, he tried to escape. The kid as on his feet, Clint saw him out of the corner of his eye. He had his gun in his hand, pointed at the Reaper.

"Let him go!" the kid warned in his best FBI voice.

A chuckle passed through the Reaper as he convulsively tightened his grip on the archer's hands. Clint gasped as multiple bones snapped simultaneously. Releasing Clint, the Reaper took a step back, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender. In the darkness that surrounded their knees to the ground, the Reaper kicked out, causing Clint's damaged ankle to roll. Before the dazed archer could respond in his stunned sate, still trying to deal with the pain in his hands and the damage's ramifications, Clint fell into the FBI agent. The gun was knocked out of the kids hand to skitter somewhere in the darkness.

"Now that that's out of your system, shall we leave?" the Reaper suggested as he patiently waited for the two agents to extract themselves from the jumbled pile they'd become.

As soon as he was clear of the kid, Clint launched himself at the Reaper. Casually, the taller man struck Clint on the side of the head. A device hidden in the palm of his hand emitted a strong electric current on impact. Darkness descended over the archer's mind as his brain shut down. Nervelessly, he once again found the ground.


End file.
